


You Are the One I've Been Waiting for All of My Life

by MossadHuntinDog



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Mythology References, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25831606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossadHuntinDog/pseuds/MossadHuntinDog
Summary: Two years after losing the human part of her in Ahtohallan, Elsa is content in the Enchanted Forest; as content as she can be. But her contentment starts to change when a man stumbles into the Northuldra, hurt, with a connection to Elsa, and a secret. And suddenly, Elsa finds herself questioning not only her past actions, but her very heart. Elsa/Hans. Written: 2019.
Relationships: Elsa/Hans (Disney)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, last year, Zani and I took the kids to see Frozen II. BIG mistake. It's Zani's new favourite film. I'm sure you've already see 'Into the Unknown', which is- I want to say a warm up story (the last two chapters need major editing, which is why I haven't posted them yet). It was the first piece she's written- like, of actual fan fiction written- in years, which was huge for her. Like she actually sat down and wrote. And sure, it's not her best, and it's really rushed, but it shows my sister-in-law still has a love of writing and that she's slowly starting to get back to what she loves, which is wonderful, because we've been worried she'd decided to stop writing stories for good.
> 
> So, this story... it delves into something new for her, pairing-wise- Hans and Elsa. I know, I know, you've seen it all before, but she's taking a semi- interesting spin on it. She draws on Wicca (specifically elementalist) as well as Norse mythology, some Irish/Gaelic mythology, a touch of alchemy, philosophy, literature and just a pinch of history to make this story as well-rounded as possible, building on the world Frozen/Frozen II gives us. That includes the theories that the voice Elsa heard was her own, a twist on the death theory, reincarnation and past lives, as well as drawing on some of the Elsa from Once Upon A Time, and a deeper look at the five- yes, five- elements.
> 
> I will try to upload a chapter a day (be warned, there's a lot and they're long), sometimes more than one a day. Oh, also, just an insight into how much my darling sister-in-law connects with this movie, especially the music? She wrote this entire fic in TWO DAYS.
> 
> A/N: Written: 2019 - Licia

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

The Ancient Greeks believed in four main elements- fire, earth, air and water. But there was one more, one forgotten to time, despite Aristotle's many writings on it.

Aether

That which builds the heavens and their corresponding bodies; others called it the Spirit, which bridges the gap between the natural, elemental world and the physical. Not death, but something else, unexplainable and uncategorizable. It not only _encompasses_ all, but is a part of all it encompasses. It rules over the other elements, keeping and often restoring the balance among them.

It is the bridge.

It has gone by many names over the centuries- the Soul, the Fifth Element, Aether, Akasha, the Quintessence, the Fifth Spirit.

Now, though?

Now, it went by Elsa.

The stream was cool against her toes as she dangled them in the water, sitting atop a flat rock on the embankment above the stream. Her light grey flats sat beside her, and the watteau cape she wore had been removed and laid with them. The long skirt of her dress fluttered in the breeze. Her heeled boots were back in her hut; technically, she didn't need the boots, but Elsa liked her comforts, the boots being one of them. There were just days where she couldn't stand flats or going barefoot.

She sighed, leaning back against her hands and tilting her face to the sun, her thoughts wandering. In the two years since she'd discovered who she truly was- the Fifth Spirit, the one who tamed and commanded the other four, who was the balance- things had settled down, especially after her death.

A moment passed, and she wrinkled her nose. Was it a death? Had she truly died? In theory, when she'd dove down into the depths of Ahtohallan that day, her physical body had frozen to death. She'd managed to get a message to her sister, about what really happened and how their grandfather was ultimately responsible for the Enchanted Forest being locked in fog for nearly forty years. Anna, who'd received the message, had managed to destroy the dam and free the forest. Once the dam had been destroyed, she'd unfrozen and returned.

But again, was it death? She would say it had been, for she had felt the stopping of her heart, but then again. Could it have been possible reincarnation? She didn't feel dead, and her sister was able to touch her, hug her, as were the people of Arendelle and the Northuldra. So, in essence, had she really died? Hard to say, not that she wanted to ponder it now. She had saved Arendelle from being flooded, and her death- whether it was truly death or not- had laid way for Anna to take the throne. Her sister and Kristoff were keeping their engagement, until Anna was well and truly settled in as Queen.

She had done much for Arendelle in her four years as queen, despite her accidental Winter; her focus had been on strengthening allegiances with their allies, increasing trade and focusing on the safety and well-being of her people. Her country and her people had come first. Which is why it still baffled her that the people of Arendelle _still_ referred to her as Queen, despite her two years away in the Enchanted Forest.

Anna had told her it was because while she herself was loved by the people, in her and Arendelle's mind, Elsa was the true queen. She had been groomed to be queen from an early age; she was the Crown Princess, the rule would go to her upon their parents' deaths. Anna may have been the current queen, but Elsa was the _true_ queen in the eyes of the people of Arendelle. She had been Iduna and Agnarr's first child, a gift from the spirits to her parents for her mother's selfless bravery when she saved Agnarr after war broke out between the Arendelle soldiers and the Northulda, Iduna's people.

_"You are a gift. Her good deed was rewarded with you."_

Her eyes opened briefly as her sister's words from that long ago day came rushing back, and after a moment, she waved the memory away, closing her eyes once again. While she may have been a gift, born on the Winter Solstice, she had still be their heir, and her father had taught her well- history, philosophy, psychology, economics, linguistics, mathematics, so that she would be a well rounded ruler when the time came.

_"A good ruler must know enough to rule and lead her people wisely, and still be willing and continue to learn. You are exceptionally brilliant, and will be a wise and knowledgeable queen someday, my little Lisbet."_

Her father had been right, she realized. In the short four years that constituted her reign, she had quickly gained the title of the Philosopher-Queen, for her tendencies to turn towards the teachings of the past, the great teachers; Aristotle, Plato, Socrates and the like were best turned to in times of great stress for the young queen. She knew several languages, had a gift for economics and a deep love of literature and history. Most of it had been cultivated during her years of isolation, for mother had left books for her outside her door, knowing of Elsa's desperate thirst for knowledge. Though the first year after the Great Thaw had been rough, she had turned to her father's teachings, and they had helped her. Despite their mistakes, they had done all they could to prepare their daughter for the crown, and it had paid off.

The breeze picked up, and she chuckled, not opening her eyes. "Hi Gale. How's your day been?" The wind spirit continued to ruffle the ends of her dress and hair, and she snorted softly. "Not today, just... enjoying the sunshine. I so very rarely get days like this anymore." It had been a while since she'd had time to herself, for she was constantly keeping the balance between the other four elements. Today, she just wanted to relax and enjoy the sun.

The breeze was warm against her cool skin, and she sighed, settling back on her elbows. Her powers had continued to grow, but it was getting easier to control now that she knew her true place in the world. "See you, Gale." The wind spirit disappeared, and she relaxed again, letting herself lay back against the warm, smooth rock. Her feet still dangled in the stream, and she let herself slowly drift between consciousness and unconsciousness.

A soft melody floated on the breeze, and she shifted. Minutes passed, with the rustling of the leaves and the soft songs of the birds-

And then she heard it again, that familiar melody.

Her blue eyes snapped open, and she sat up, listening. She heard nothing, and chalked it up to a couple birds. But just as she was about to lay back down, she heard it again, and stopped.

It was the same melody that had called to her two years earlier in Arendelle- her mother's voice, mimicked by the North wind. Or, perhaps, the small voice in her head had suggested, it wasn't her mother's voice at all, but her own. The part of her that was waiting to be set free- the Fifth Spirit. It was a theory that had crossed her mind multiple times over the last three years or so, but she'd never bothered to go any further than let it sit in her head, especially after her experience in Ahtohallan.

It called again, and slowly, she stood, stepping out of the stream and collecting her shoes and cape. Two years had passed since she'd heard the voice, and she figured she'd never hear it again, so to hear it _now_ -

_No, it's not the voice. It's just a ringing in your ear._

As she made her way back to the Northuldra, it called to her again, and she stopped. _No, just block it out. It's like the mythical sirens, who used to lure sailors into the depths of the sea. That's all it is._

When she reached the camp, she nodded to Honeymaren and Ryder, who were talking with a few others. Calls of _"Good afternoon, Spirit"_ , _"How has your day been, Spirit?",_ and _"Welcome back, Spirit"_ , greeted her, and she acknowledged them each with a nod, making her way towards her hut, which sat further back from the rest. Once inside, she set her things down and settled on the bedroll and blankets, pulling out the scarf that had belonged to her mother from underneath the blankets. She had insisted they all call her Elsa, but very few did; Honeymaren and Ryder and a most of the younger generation would, even Yelena, the chief of the tribe, but the majority still called her Spirit. Without a word, she wrapped the scarf around her shoulders, brushing the fabric against her cheek.

It was moments when she could be safely tucked into her hut- or in the ice palace she'd made on Ahtohollan- whenever she returned from being out and about that she felt the loneliness the most. She missed Anna dearly, and even though there were still family game nights, family dinners and visits, it wasn't the same as living there, where she got to see her sister every day. Just when they'd reconnected and gotten to a good place, a strong place, they'd been ripped apart again.

The voice called out again, and she looked up. It was stronger this time; to the point where it was resonating beneath her skin, similar to her magic. She tried to ignore it, but then something struck her, something deep in the pit of her stomach. It was strong, unnerving.

With the scarf still around her shoulders, she slipped on her flats and stepped out of the hut, looking around. Again, the voice called to her, and after a moment, she moved through the camp, looking around. "Is there something you need, Spirit?" She turned to find Yelena behind her, and after a moment, she shook her head.

"No thank you, Yele-"

It called again to her, and she caught her breath. Yelena, noticing the hitch in her throat and the widening of her eyes stepped closer, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Elsa, what is it?" The girl didn't notice the older woman's tender gesture, she simply glanced the chief before pulling away and hurrying to the edge of the camp. Honeymaren looked up from her conversation with one of the other women.

"Elsa? What's wrong?"

But the snow white blonde ignored the girl, putting her hands to her mouth and echoing the call. Several others shared glances; it had been two years since Elsa had told them about the voice she heard calling her, when she'd woken the spirits, only to find her true self. Nothing happened, no response. Taking a deep breath, Elsa tried again. When she got nothing, she sighed, turning to go back to the tribe-

It returned, calling out to her, and she turned back, gasping softly. Cupping her mouth again, she repeated the melody, her strong voice bouncing off the earth giants and rippling the streams. Several of the tribe shared glances; they'd never heard Elsa sing, in the two years since she'd been with the tribe, she'd never revealed her voice like she was doing now. It was strong, that was certain. Despite her years of isolation, she had cultivated a strong singing voice. Yelena, not having moved from where she'd stood earlier, made a note to ask the girl to sing at dinner.

The voice echoed her, and she echoed back.

_Come on, secret siren, keep calling to me._

Silence.

And then another call. She listened intently for a moment, trying to track the voice. South, it was coming from the south- the route towards Arendelle. Without a word, she dashed off, following the river, listening for the voice. But she skidded to a stop, realizing that the voice was leading her further and further south; if it kept up at this pace, she'd be exhausted by the time she got to whatever it was leading her to. A moment passed, before she turned to the river she'd been following, an idea striking her.

Quickly, she knelt down, reaching out and gently swirling her fingers in the river. "Hey Nokk? I need a favour."

In a matter of moments, the water horse had appeared, galloping towards her as she stood. It stopped, and she reached up, resting her forehead against its muzzle as she laid both hands on its face. A layer of frost began to appear, coating the horse so it could gallop on land, and once she stepped back, she giggled, watching it prance around before stopping. It allowed her to climb atop its back and take the reigns, before she gently dug her heels into its sides and they were off, the wind at their backs.

She called again, listening as hard as she could despite the Nokk's hooves on the ground, and after a few minutes, she heard the reply. Gently, she tugged on the reigns, guiding the horse to the left, up into the forests. It followed Elsa's gentle order, trusting her. Of all the spirits, Elsa had developed a special relationship with the water horse; of all the spirits, it had taken her the longest to tame, after nearly being drowned in the Black Sea that long ago day. It was only after it had dragged her through the water by her arm, that she'd managed to conjure a bridle and reign, thrown it around the horse's snout, and then yanked herself up onto its back that it listened to her at all- after lashing around in attempt to throw her off is back. Several firm tugs on the reigns finally had it listening to her command; despite Elsa never having ridden a horse before.

Perhaps it was because they shared an element- water. For Elsa's ice and snow came from water, which was what the water horse was, essentially, the guardian of. An element shared between two spirits would make the bond between those two specific spirits stronger, in theory. But it was only a theory, much like Olaf's water memory theory.

Minutes passed, and again, she heard it; again, she called out to it, and again, she urged the Nokk to go faster. All too soon, they were gaining on it. Without a word, she leaned down, gently patting its neck. The horse seemed to understand what she was asking, and increased its pace. She called out again, heard it. As they reached a valley, the voice called one last time, and Elsa called back, only for it to disappear.

" _Woah! Easy!_ Easy." She tugged on the reigns as they came upon the edge, and Elsa let her gaze scan the valley, before finally spotting it. A gasp escaped her throat, and she gently urged the horse down the slight slope. Her gaze took in the what was left of what apparently was a caravan. Bodies lay everywhere, caravans were destroyed or ransacked; clearly someone had attacked. The stench of death reached her, and she covered her nose.

She slid off the horse once they stopped, and looked around. Clothing and scraps of food, bodies and wood lay scattered about. It took only a few moments for her to realize who they had been.

_Sigøynere._

_"Gypsies."_

As she picked her way through the destruction, something caused her pause. A soft moan. Someone was still alive amid the carnage and death. Scrambling over bits of broken wood, various possessions and bodies, she hurried towards the source of the moan, finding a man.

"Can you hear me? Hello?"

He winced when she reached out to touch him, and hissed in pain. A moment passed as she tried to think of what to do. She couldn't help him up; she didn't know the extent of the damage. She couldn't get him onto the Nokk, and it would take too long to get back to the tribe, and God only knew if he'd still be alive by the time she returned... she glanced back at the Nokk, before turning back to the man. He was covered in perspiration, and seemed to be having difficulty breathing. After a moment, she reached up, focusing all her energy on being able to move the wagon his leg was pinned under. A blast of ice shot out, and the toppled wagon moved. As she watched it, an idea struck her.

Taking a deep breath, she extended a hand. "Please, Yelena... we need help..."

A blast of snowflakes shot into the air from her palms. The man groaned, and she turned back to him. Without a word, she hurried to him, reaching out and pulling his head into her lap. He cried out, and she reached down, gently tugging at his shirt. His chest was black, blue and purple, like he'd been beat. There were gashes in his side and what looked like internal bleeding. He grunted in pain, and she reached down, resting a hand against his forehead, being careful to brush his ginger hair away. "Shh, shh. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. You're okay, you're safe."

She continued to stroke his hair, unsure of whether Yelena had gotten her message or not. The man hissed with another breath, and reached up, but she reached over, grabbing his wrist when he reached for his side. He struggled only briefly, before the cool touch of her skin calmed him, and he relaxed. For a moment, Elsa feared his body had given up and he'd passed into the next world, but she realized he was clenching his teeth to keep from crying out. Once he stopped fighting her, she released his hand and gently moved her fingers over his skin, hoping her cool touch brought a little relief while they waited. It seemed to do the trick, as his cries were now soft whimpers.

He looked up at her, his eyes unfocused due to pain and blood loss, and she continued stroking her fingers through his hair. "Shh. It's okay. Help is coming." She bit her lip, hair falling over her shoulder. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Several minutes passed, before he finally managed to choke out, "B... _bandi_..."

"Bandits?" She finished, and he whimpered in response. A soft sob escaped her throat. Bandits were a common sight in the mountains and hills further east; they usually attached caravans, so it wasn't a surprise that they'd attack the gypsies. Gypsies were thought to be quite wealthy, when in fact they were simple people, who took on more of a performance role, performing tricks and telling fortunes for coins in various towns before moving on. Elsa remembered the first time she'd ever seen a gypsy fortune teller before Anna's accident. _"Fairytales and hokum,"_ her father had called them, but Elsa wasn't so sure. If Gypsies were, then weren't the trolls also in the same category? And, for that matter, what about her? If she looked at it that way, then she herself fell into the hokum category.

He cried out, and Elsa stopped stroking his head, turning her own to stare at him. She lifted her hand away, horrified when her fingers came back sticky with blood. It was then that she realized there was a cut going from his hairline down towards his left eye- how had she not noticed that before? He reached up, taking her hand, and she turned her gaze back to his. "El... Els..."

She leaned down to listen, for his voice was getting faint. "I don't-" But the sound of hoof beats caused her to look up as Yelena and several others hurried down to them. Relief washed over her. So Yelena _had_ gotten her message. They stopped, horrified by the sight. _"Yelena!"_ Thinking quickly, she directed a flurry of snowflakes towards the stunned Northuldra, who were too busy scanning the carnage. In minutes, they were beside her.

"Elsa, what happened?" She looked up as the chief knelt beside her, and the man in her arms seemed to tense briefly, squeezing her hand.

"Bandits." She turned back to him, meeting his green gaze. He squeezed her hand again. "What? What is it? Shh. Shh, it's okay." She shifted her hand, so that he was no longer gripping her wrist. "This is the Northuldra, they're my tribe." She didn't notice the glances the others shared, at the acceptance in her voice. "It's okay, we're going to take care of you. I p _romise_."

Yelena and the others watched in surprise as the young woman leaned down, resting her forehead to his and closing her eyes. "We need to move him-"

"Shh. It's okay. We'll take care of you, you're not alone anymore. I promise. You're not alone. We're here. _I'm_ here."

As the pain took over, he squeezed her hand again, one word escaping his lips as his eyes closed and he fell into unconsciousness.

_"Elsa."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Any thoughts so far? For those of you who have read her countless stories on this site- and Fanfiction.net, it's different to her usual, isn't it? Written: 2019 - Licia

It took time, but they were able to get back to camp before darkness fell, the injured man among them. Elsa had described what she'd found when she got there, and Yelena had told her not to worry, that she'd done the right thing, sending a signal instead of leaving him. She'd then stood back and watched as they'd taken him to her hut- because it was furthest away from the rest of the chaos of the camp, and it would be certain he'd be able to heal after the damage was assessed. Elsa had just nodded, leaving Yelena and the healers to work on the man. As everyone had been preparing for dinner, she made her way to the Nokk, who stood waiting for her still in his frosted form.

"Elsa?" She turned to see Honeymaren holding out a bowl. Her blue gaze glanced at it before she gently shook her head.

"No thank you, Honeymaren. I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat, Elsa." Ryder said, joining his sister. Elsa laughed, shaking her head.

"I don't mean to sound rude, Ryder, but... I'm a Spirit. Forgive me if I reject food, because they don't eat." The siblings shared a glance, before Honeymaren sighed and tried again, reaching out for her.

"Elsa, Spirit or not, you need sustenance."

But the white-blonde ignored her, going to the Nokk and gently stroking his muzzle. A moment passed, as she rested her forehead to his muzzle, and something seemed to pass between the two, before she moved and hoisted herself onto the horse's back, unaware of the streak of blood she'd left on the frost; the same streak of blood that was across her forehead, from when she'd rested against the man's to calm him. "No, I don't. Come on, we're going for a ride." She gently nudged the Nokk, tugging on the reigns. She leaned down, gently patting the horse's neck. "Ready?" It reared its head in agreement, and after a moment, she tugged harder on the reigns and turned the animal.

"But Elsa-"

Honeymaren's protest died on the wind as Elsa and the Nokk galloped away; Yelena watched from the doorway of Elsa's hut. The girl was skittish; something had spooked her, made her decide to get out of the camp, and she most likely wouldn't be back until the next day. She had known the girl for two years now, and had begun to recognize that when Elsa needed her space- truly needed her space- she often fled back to Ahtohallan. The chief didn't begrudge her her desire for a small amount of freedom, but this... this was peculiar.

As the camp faded into the background of the day, Elsa spurred the Nokk on, towards the Dark Sea. She needed to be away from the camp for a while. The waves picked up as they dashed upon them; the frost she'd coated the horse in began to melt away, leaving the smooth surface of the water instead, and Elsa gently reached down to pat the horse's neck. It instantly understood.

She didn't understand it; how had her day gone from calm and relaxing to... chaos? Because that's what it was. First the voice had returned, calling to her once again, then the discovery of the raid on the gypsies, and now the discovery that the man she'd found knew her name? He'd said her _name_ , like he knew it from somewhere.

_It was probably because he heard Yelena say your name when she reached you._ She wanted to believe that was what the small voice in her head meant, but she couldn't be entirely sure. The waves picked up a little more, but the Nokk never broke his steady stride. _That has to be it; he heard Yelena speak your name, and was just conscious enough to be able to repeat it._

And yet, something didn't sit well about that suggestion. Something tugged deeper, into the pit of her stomach, that told her that she knew the man, from her past, from her time in Arendelle. She shook her head as rain began to pour, trying to toss aside the feeling in her stomach, but it was no use. The idea remained.

When she looked up through the pelting rain, she could see the shimmer of the glacier not far away. Instantly, she began to feel slightly calmer, the tension in her stomach easing. Ahtohallan had been her calm; it was where she could go when she needed to get away, where she could relive the memories of her childhood, learn the secrets of her past.

Technically, if Elsa thought about it, as the Fifth Spirit, she was the Guardian of Ahtohallan; the protector of the memories of the past. Like Anubis, who weighed the hearts of those arriving to enter into the afterlife, she had taken it upon herself to guard the slopes of Ahtohallan from any who wished to delve too deep into the past. Not that she needed to worry about it being a major job, since very few ships ventured into the Dark Sea, and those that did, didn't survive to reach its shores. But still, at least it gave her something to do.

She thought back to the man and the look in his green eyes. He'd been in so much pain, and though her cool touch had helped a bit, it wasn't enough. But it wasn't only pain she'd seen in his eyes; she'd seen fear as well. Like he believed she was Death come to take him across the River Styx into the underworld. She sighed; she'd seen that fear very little in her short twenty-six years; Hell, she'd _felt_ that very same fear in the depths of Ahtohallan. And then he'd breathed her name before the pain knocked him unconscious- but it was the _way_ he said it, as though he were surprised, like he were discovering a long-lost friend after decades apart.

_"Elsa."_

She shivered, releasing a breath once they reached the shores of Ahtohallan. Without a word, she slid off the Nokk, stepping back and bowing gently to it, as it did the same in return before dashing back into the sea. Now alone on the glacier, she turned towards its opening. It was on one of her many flights back in the first year in the Enchanted Forest, that she'd discovered that Ahtohallan was, as far as glaciers went, huge. It rose out of the sea, jagged and rocky, so similiar to the shores of the distant Southern Isles that at first Elsa had had difficulty exploring the surrounding 'beaches' as she called them.

The time it had taken her to traverse the glacier in the weeks after she'd settled into her new role had been long, usurped by the terrain, her whirling emotions and the strong pull she felt to go _into_ the glacier, had been numerous; by the time she actually managed to traverse the entire area, she was surprised to find that there were small pockets for people to take cover, as though the glacier had intended to take care of those who visited.

It had given her an idea; though she chose to stay with the Northuldra, she felt more content at times to stay away from them. Ahtohallan would be the perfect place for her to escape when she needed to. And so she'd dashed back to the entrance... and then stopped. A moment had passed, and then she'd conjured up a storm of sleet and snow, in the hopes that the glacier understood her request. At the time, she'd felt like an idiot, but it had responded well to her gift and granted her request. She couldn't exactly say what had transpired, or what, or who, had accepted her request, but she had the deep sense that the glacier was alive, had always been alive.

_Water has memory_ , she shook Olaf's words from her mind and moved towards the slopes of her temporary home.

It had allowed her to build; sculpting a small palace out the back of the glacier, within the ancient rock, that was hers and hers alone. Because it was created within the glacier itself, it made Elsa's connection to the ancient river and magic that much stronger. And, if she were honest with herself, she was content on the other side of the glacier; it was calmer- the water raged not as much as at the entrance, as if it knew she would take up residence on it's north-facing side.

Once she had reached the other side of the glacier, she hurried up the steps and into her small palace. She was grateful that she was allowed to have a small place literally carved out for her that she could call her own. She just needed time to herself every once and a while. She had stopped looking at it as self-isolation, and more as self-reflection, a time for her to be away from her role as the keeper of the spirits and protector of the forest.

Turning back, she gazed out across the Dark Sea, and then slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her. The glittering ice chandelier glittered in the darkness, and after a moment, she held out a hand, blowing on it. A million ice crystals had formed and begun to rise from her palm, and blowing on them simply helped to move them along. They settled in the sconces of the chandelier, and the room filled with glittering light. It was one of the few perks of her powers continuing to grow.

With a sigh, she moved through the palace, past the foyer area and up the stairs, towards her room and the library. A fireplace sat carved into the wall, and after a moment, she shot a spark of ice towards it; the ice melted instantly and began giving off heat- not enough to melt the place, but enough to warm her. It was another perk of growing powers; not only could she manipulate ice and snow, but she could now create what she called 'blue flames'- fire made from ice that gave off heat just as Bruni's fire did, but that didn't melt the ice around it.

What she could do defied the laws of physics, but then again, elemental spirits were prone to doing that. With a sigh, she took a seat in the armchair, slouching into it and becoming lost in the dancing blue flames. Her thoughts drifted back to that afternoon, and the man she'd helped. Something about him was exceedingly familiar and it was starting to grate on her nerves, because she couldn't for the life of her remember what it was. A moment passed before she got up, going to the shelves. Her fingers skimmed the rows of books; Anna, in the last couple of years, had given her the extra copies of some of the books in the Arendelle castle library; their father believed in multiple copies of everything- for safekeeping, for expanding on ideas and questioning everything.

Agnarr of Arendelle had been an exceedingly curious child, and an even more curious man, and it was unfair that the Dark Sea had so cruelly ripped both him and Iduna from their daughters' lives. But then again, it was unfair that Elsa had essentially been ripped from Anna's life- but this time, not _necessarily_ by her own hand. It had been fate that had separated the sisters. Elsa snorted.

_Fate._

Such a cliche. She pulled down a book, read the first page, and put it back before returning her fingers to the spines.

Events destined to happen within a person's life, things that are out of their control, according to the great philosophers- but then again, one could argue that fate was not necessarily predetermined events, but events shaped by one's own actions.

_The choices we make, chart the course for our lives, like a pirate's map. It's our choice to follow the trail marked on the map or not, but nothing is predetermined,_ as her father would often say. Her father thought similarly to her- he turned to the Greek philosophers and the laws of physics and psychology when making decisions that affected the welfare of his people and kingdom; he valued knowledge over profit, making sure his people were educated before wealthy. _The wealth of Arendelle would build from the education of her people_ , he had told her once. And the little girl, then a child of roughly eight years, had listened with rapt attention, taking his words to heart. And she had built on his policies and ideals, making Arendelle perhaps the wealthiest of all the Scandinavian countries by the time she abdicated. And yet, even two years on, she prayed that Anna would do the right thing and not mess with the treasury or reserves. Not that she didn't trust her sister; she did. Hell, Anna had sacrificed herself for her during her Eternal Winter, protecting Elsa and ensuring monarchy survived. However, Anna was also known to be impulsive, and wouldn't think twice before spending on something she deemed good for the kingdom; she was still young, and had only had two years of rule under her belt.

She pulled down another book, but this time, instead of opening it immediately, she went back to the armchair, taking a seat and then opening it up. A soft sigh escaped her, and she settled back to read. She hadn't touched Plato in a while. Her attention was kept for on the book for a good hour or two, before her gaze began to blur; she could only spend so much time reading Plato, for his subjects were heavy. Not that the arguments he put forth weren't interesting, but they were weighty and for anyone else, hard to follow; Elsa, having grown up reading Plato and other philosophers her entire life, could handle the meat Plato often handed in regards to his theories and philosophies, except when she was tired.

And given the day she'd had-

With a sigh, she marked her page and closed the book, setting it aside before getting up and going to her desk. A letter sat atop, waiting to be finished.

_Dear Anna,_

Her gaze scanned the remaining contents, and she sighed. It was the same letter she'd been working on for the last two weeks. Anna had updated her on everything going on in Arendelle; how the harvest was thriving and the treaties she'd put in place five years earlier were still strong, and how she missed Elsa terribly and that she wanted nothing more than for her sister to return- to leave the Enchanted Forest and her life as the Fifth Spirit and return to her, as Anna put it, 'rightful place on the Arendelle throne'. It was one of those letters where Elsa could tell Anna was in the midst of a nervous breakdown, but she hadn't had a chance to visit.

She doubted that she could finish the letter tonight, for she had just as much energy and eagerness to finish it now than she did two weeks ago. With a sigh, she turned and left the study, making her way to the bedroom. Starting a fire in the small fireplace, she took a seat on the bed, reaching over to smooth the soft sheets made of frost. Those in the Northuldra didn't fully understand why she had built the palace and furnished it; they didn't understand that her skin was naturally cold due to her magic, and that the cold never truly bothered her, and that she just needed a place that in some way resembled what had been her home for twenty-four years.

After a moment, she stripped down, changing into a pair of leggings and a tunic made of ice before crawling beneath the covers, though sleep didn't come easily. She shifted, turning face the wall; she could see the light pulse of the magic within Ahtohallan, and let herself focus on it. Though her body was beyond exhausted, her mind wouldn't shut off, and after half an hour or so, she kicked back the blankets and stood, pulling on her slippers and leaving the room. As long as her mind was focused on the man that was at the camp, being treated for his wounds, she wouldn't be able to sleep, because her mind wouldn't stop searching for the connection she felt to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Elsa didn't return to the Northulda for two days.

She spent the majority of her time in her library in her palace at Atohallan, scanning through book after book, looking for anything that could tell her about connection. She knew that it was something along the lines of emotions and the chemistry of the brain, but other than that, she found nothing. She had spent the rest of her time traversing the rocky crags in her bare feet, the wind whipping the long strands around her head. She has spent those two nights watching the stars glitter over head, and wishing she could remember what was so important, because it was important, from the knots in the pit of her stomach.

When finally she decided to return, she didn't know what to expect; it was unreasonable to expect the man to be gone. He'd been too badly injured- obvious internal bleeding, cuts, bruises, a head injury, a broken, if not shattered, leg- and that was what she could _see_. God only knew the multitude of internal injuries that he suffered from.

She let her thoughts wander as the Nokk too brought her back across the sea to the forest, the steady movement of the water horse as it traversed the sea beneath her, keeping her grounded, but not too. It didn't make sense. There was nothing in any of her books that spoke of human connection- nothing concrete anyway. The majority were philosophical at best; they spoke of the splitting of a soul into two separate bodies, which therein constituted the 'soulmates'. It was a theory that held no ground, as far as she was concerned.

_But you and Anna are soulmates._ The tiny voice in her head objected.

_No, we're not, we're sisters. Sisters are not soulmates; they're siblings. They come from the same family, share similar, if not distinctly different, blood, but none the less, are_ _related._ She grunted in annoyance of the argument taking place in her own head, and dug her heels into the Nokk's sides, unaware that she was spurring him on faster. _Ryder and Honeymaren are the same. A sibling does not equal a soulmate._

The waves crashed and roared around them; the Nokk, as connected as he was with Elsa, shaped the sea they galloped through. He took her unaware command and quickened his pace, forcing the water to swirl and crash harder. She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, that she didn't notice the wave crashing over them.

She came up sputtering and gasping for air in the harshest waves of the Dark Sea. At some point, she lost sight of the Nokk, and did all she could to keep her head above water. That was one thing she could never wrap her head around- that even though she was now a spirit, she still needed to eat, drink and apparently had the need to breathe after being underwater for too long. For all her research, she had found nothing about spirits of any plane- elemental or otherwise- needing food, water and air to maintain themselves. It almost felt as though she hadn't lost all of her physical body after all.

"Nokk! _Nokk!_ " She returned her hands to the sea; she could only tread water for so long. Thinking quickly, the cast an arm out, creating a slab of ice that she was able to swim over too. As she climbed atop it, she had flashbacks of the night she tamed the Nokk, and the fight he'd put up. _"What are you doing? Leaving me in the middle of the Dark Sea?"_ She lay back against the ice, catching her breath. She supposed she could just let her ice sheet drift; eventually, she'd end up back with the Northuldra.

Eventually.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. "Nokk. _Nokk, please! I'm sorry!"_ She swallowed. _"I'm sorry, okay! I should have realized! I know better now than to let my emotions overwhelm me, because then they overwhelm you! Please!"_

Elsa had learned in her first year at the Fifth Spirit that her connection with the Nokk was stronger than the others because they were both water-based. Not only that, but both were tied deeply to emotion- or at least, that's what Elsa suspected. "After all, Ancient Greek myth claimed that the roiling waves of the sea were Poseidon voicing his displeasure. Supposedly." She sat up, looking around, watching as the waters began to calm. She searched for the Nokk, but found no sign-

A scream escaped her as she suddenly catapulted off her sheet of ice, high into the air, landing several feet away in the water. She gasped for air as she came back up, quickly looking around. The waters began to roil again, and she quickly looked around. No sign of the Nokk.

Until it kicked her in the chest from underwater, sending her crashing into the waves not far away. As she landed back in the water, she caught sight of it's bright blue eyes in the distance, and hurried to break the surface. She never got the chance to do it herself. Instead, the Nokk grabbed her by the sleeve, and did as he'd done the first time they'd met, dragging her through the water, forcing her to hold her other arm before her face to block the water before they even broke through for air. As they finally managed to break the surface, Elsa conjured the bridle and reigns, catching the Nokk and managing to pull herself up onto its back just as they returned to the surface fully. Spent from her time in the water, she lay against the horse's mane, the reigns loosely held in her hands as she caught her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that the waters were calm now, and she groaned softly in annoyance.

_"You did that on purpose."_ The horse whinnied, as if proud of itself, and continued on. Because the water spirit was so volatile, like the element it represented, it was often easy for Elsa to discern when the horse was having fun, and when it was truly angry. This? This little game of bucking bronco was the former. "You know I hate when you mess with me like that."

Again, the horse whinnied, punctuating it with a snort.

Eventually, Elsa sat up; the sea was now completely calm, all traces of the storm or their roughhousing gone. From what Elsa could understand of the Nokk, he was as old as time, though he still acted like an overexcited foal on occasion. After a moment, she reached down, gently patting the horse's neck. As they got closer and closer to land, Elsa took the reigns in one hand and leaned over, the side to meet the horse's eye. She nodded towards the shore. "We're gonna be there pretty quick. You ready?" It neighed,and she rested her forehead against it, placing her free hand on its muzzle are much as she dared, and resting her other hand against its neck to keep her balance. The last thing she needed was to fall off, back into the sea while trying to frost the water horse.

Its hooves hit the shore, and sped up at her gentle urging. Gale soon tugged at her hair, and the hem of her dress, and Elsa chuckled. "Nokk decided to play." The horse seemed to snort in pride, and Elsa rolled her eyes, turning her face to the breaking dawn. The sky started to streak in soft hues of pink and orange, and she sighed. It was times like this, when it was just her, the Nokk and Gale, dashing across land and sea, headed for the unknown...

_And to think, there was a period where you thought going into the unknown was dangerous. Well, you were right, it was, but you're stronger than ever. You are a goddess among men, the controller of the elements; the human race bows to you. But you are no longer going into the unknown, you_ are _the unknown._ She lowered her head, the tiny voice in her head hitting a nerve. She knew it was right, of course. Ancient civilizations viewed the five elements as gods among men, for only gods could do what the elements did.

_And what did Kirstoff call you the last time you were over for dinner? Oh, yeah, the All Powerful Snow Queen of Arendelle, Guardian of Ahtohallan and the Enchanted Forest, Keeper of the Balance, Goddess of Spirit, Commander of the Elements. Anna's bumbling idiot of a fiance was actually right, for once._ It wasn't that she didn't _like_ Kristoff, but she had so little experience with men that she didn't know what to do with them or how to act, so she often came off cold or callous around the ice harvester. "Kristoff _isn't_ an idiot. He... he loves Anna." She breathed, an ache of loneliness beginning in her chest. Gale nudged her, confused, and Elsa waved it away. "Nothing, Gale."

By the time they reached the Enchanted Forest, Elsa had cast the snide, cynical, jealous voice in her head out for the day. The leaves fluttered softly, and Elsa tugged gently on the reigns to get the Nokk to stop. They stood at the four gigantic runes signifying the four elements of nature. After a moment, Elsa slid off the Nokk, making her way to each and resting her forehead and hands against each stone. It had become part of her routine, whenever she returned from Ahtohallan, to stop at the runes and give her silent thanks for the night before. She couldn't explain _why_ she did it, she just knew she had to.

When finally, she stepped back and climbed back atop the Nokk, dawn had arrived, and she knew the camp would be just starting to rise and go about their day. Gently digging her heels into the horse's sides, they took off at a soft gallop, coming upon the Northuldra camp in a matter of minutes, Gale at their backs. They stopped at the entrance of the camp, and surveying the scene. From her vantage point, she scanned the earth, searching for something-

And then suddenly, there it was; a streak of lilac-pink darting into the camp. She grinned, and got down from the Nokk. With a bow to the horse which it returned, she turned, making her way towards the small salamander zipping about the camp, putting small fires out on occasion. A moment passed, before Elsa knelt, holding out a hand. "Bruni."

The little salamander poked his head out of the hearth from the main cooking fire, and upon seeing Elsa, turned and hissed, before bounding out and rushing into her hands. _"Oh! Ow, hot! Ouch!"_ She hissed softly, gently tossing the small salamander from hand to hand before he finally settled down with a contented sigh. With a soft giggle, she lifted a hand, generating a small cluster of snowflakes that the salamander quickly and eagerly lapped up. "It's good to see me, isn't it?"

He simply squeaked, and Elsa looked up as the Northulda began coming out from the huts. Bruni quickly scampered up Elsa's arm to her shoulder, sat for a couple minutes, and then darted up into her hair. With a soft gasp of annoyance, the young woman reached up to grab the little fire spirit, only to pull her hand back with a yip at the heat. _"Ouch!"_ She sucked quickly on her finger, rolling her eyes at the mischievous little fire starter before turning her attention to Yelena, who had stood watching the interaction between the two spirits.

The chief was glad that Elsa was so comfortable around the spirits; to be honest, she'd been amazed that Elsa had tamed the small fire spirit that quickly. And Bruni, as Elsa called him, clearly adored the young woman. With a chuckle, she made her way towards the woman in question. "You know he only acts like that when you stay at Ahtohallan." Elsa looked up at her, lips thinning, and nodded.

"I know, I just... I needed space." Yelena nodded, understanding, to an extent. But she also knew that something else was going on, and she had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with their guest. She watched Elsa's gaze dart towards her own hut, and the older woman followed her gaze.

"He is resting."

"How bad is it?" Elsa asked, oblivious to the rest of the camp going about the start of their day. Yelena sighed, before turning and walking back to the hut; Elsa fell into step beside her.

"A gash upon his forehead, several bruises, a broken rib, his leg was broken in two places, from what the healer can decipher; we believe he was lashed at with a sword at some point." Elsa listened to the extensive list of injuries. Things had been pretty dire that day; she was amazed his leg hadn't been crushed.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Yelena?" She looked up, drawn from her reverie by the older woman's voice. The older woman smiled softly.

"There is more, Elsa. He has... scars. Cuts that look like they have been there for years, as though he were tortured." Elsa paled, empathy going out to the man. Bruni shifted in her hair, but she didn't notice.

"Torture?" After a moment, she turned to her hut, slowly making her way to the entrance and peeking in; lay on his back, stripped of his shirt, cloth bound tightly around his ribs, and his leg set in a splint. The gash on his head was cleaned and protected, but in the early morning dawn, he looked worse for wear.

"There is one more thing, Spirit." Elsa nodded; Yelena only ever truly used her title when it was important enough for Elsa to listen, to get her attention and keep it. Carefully, Yelena crept into Elsa's hut, going to where the man's shirt lay folded in a corner. She rummaged for something and then, finding it, left the hut and the man sleeping within. Elsa glanced at Yelena as the woman held the object out to her. "This was found wrapped around the leg that was pinned beneath the wagon. We are not really sure what it means, but perhaps you would know."

Slowly, Elsa took it, studying the material. It was long and cut like a banner. The colors were split- green and purple with a yellow crocus. She gasped softly. "Arendelle." Yelena raised an eyebrow. "This is Arendelle's crest, _my_ crest. It's one of the banners that was hung in the city for my coronation as queen, but after my coronation, after the Great Thaw, all the banners were removed-" She stopped, something sparking in her brain. She tried to remember that long ago disaster of a day.

_You gave banners to each of the visiting dignitaries and representatives, as souvenirs of your coronation._ Slowly, she turned back to the hut, yanking the flap of the tent up, and peering inside. The man slept soundly, unaware of her staring. She studied him; she wasn't sure if the niggling feeling in the back of her brain was right or not, but something was telling her this man had been at her coronation. But her coronation- disaster as it was- had been five years ago, and she knew she couldn't recall _everyone_ that had been in attendance.

The man shifted in his sleep, wincing, and after a moment, Elsa stepped inside, still holding onto the banner. She knelt down, intending to check on him, but couldn't help studying him instead. Though sound asleep, he was restless; his broad shoulders and chest sported scars and... were those _burns_? His cheeks were thin, his hair long and unkempt but not unclean, as though he'd been kept somewhere for a very long time. But as she gazed at him, trying to figure out who he was and how he got her coronation banner, she noticed something else.

Sideburns.

_"May I have this dance, Your Majesty?"_ A prince, not much older than her, who she'd turned away when he'd asked her to dance-

_"No, it can't be-"_ Her breathy reply was soft; the brush of her breath on his cheeks aroused him from his slumber, and Elsa soon found herself looking into a familiar pair of green eyes. Their gazes locked. Unaware that she'd leaned so close, she breathed, "H... _Hans?_ "

He stared at her for several minutes, before the soft whisper clicked, and in a raspy voice, he asked, "Elsa? What are you doing here?"


	4. Chapter 4

Her first instinct- the one she didn't follow, because it wouldn't be right for her to do so in front of Yelena- was to slap him.

But since that was out of the question, she climbed to her feet, stalking out of the hut and past the chief, the coronation banner still in her grasp. The rest of the tribe watched as the Fifth Spirit began to pace in agitation, an occasionally icy blast shooting out from her hands, barely missing people's feet. Bruni, up in Elsa's hair, watched the ice blasts with interest before hopping down onto her shoulder.

"How dare he... what am _I_ doing here? What about _him_?" Honeymaren glanced at her brother, before cautiously stepping towards the annoyed Snow Queen, hands out in surrender. "When that _pompous, bloodlusting_ _bastard_ was sent back to the Southern Isles, he was supposed to _stay_ , _not leave_ , so how did he get out? If he weren't already badly damaged, I'd have broken-"

"Elsa?" The elemental jumped in surprise, turning and lashing out; Honeymaren jumped back in time, as a blast of ice shot out of Elsa's palm and dashed across the forest floor, little jagged ice cycle spikes appearing in some places. She glanced at Honeymaren, but didn't utter a word of apology; instead, she returned to her pacing, occasionally glancing at the banner in her hands, brushing her fingers against the yellow crocus that was the symbol of the kingdom- _her_ kingdom. For no matter how many years she spent in the Enchanted Forest, as the Fifth Spirit, the Guardian of Ahtohallan, Arendelle had been her home for the first twenty-four years of her life; it would always be _hers_. Anna may be queen now, but Arendelle belonged to _her_ , for _she_ was the _true_ -

_"Spirit!"_ Elsa ignored Yelena, continuing to pace.

"And how exactly did he get-" The more upset Elsa got, the more snow started to appear; first as haphazard flurries, now as continuous drifts. Like the other elements, when one was out of balance, it was best to bring the balance back as soon as possible, but since it was _Elsa_ who was upset- _"Hey! Give that back to me, Gale! That's not yours! It's mine!"_

Gale tore the banner from Elsa's hands, carrying it higher and higher until it was completely out of Elsa's reach. And try as the young woman might, she couldn't reach, no matter what she did. Instead of stopping the snow, it just made Elsa more upset, causing the snow to fall harder. Yelena, having finally picked her way through the snow drifts, reached out and grabbed the woman's shoulders, causing her to turn to face her.

_"Spirit!"_ Elsa's gaze met hers, and she slowly began to calm. Gale, sensing the change, lowered the banner, and Elsa snatched it out of the air, before absentmindedly turning her attention to the snow about the camp, which she promptly made disappear with a wave of her hand. Once the banner was safe within her hands, she looked up at Yelena. "I take it you remember who he is." Elsa nodded once.

"And you evidently don't like him." Honeymaren added, crossing her arms over her chest. Elsa didn't reply. She glanced at the others, realizing none of them would speak until she spoke first. Taking a deep breath, she turned and began pacing yet again, slowly this time as she spoke. Bruni still sat upon Elsa's shoulder, hoping for another snowstorm so he could run and play.

_"His name is Prince Hans Westergård of the Southern Isles. He is the man that showed up at my coronation, wooed my sister, took over the kingdom after I fled, and then tried to behead me!"_ She cried, her blood beginning to boil. The wind picked up, and snow once more began to fall. The others in the tribe quickly took shelter, peeking out to watch the conversation between the chief and the Spirit. _"What is he doing here? Why is he here? How did he get here?"_

"You know the answers to that, Elsa, Yelena replied softly. "You found the-"

_"I don't mean the camp, Yelena! I mean how did he get out of the Southern Isles!"_ She screamed, stamping her foot. A familiar sheet of ice in the shape of a snowflake, Elsa's signature, appeared as the snow continued to fall. _"When we came to find the voice two years ago, Hans was still serving out his punishment! He was sent back after is was discovered what he'd tried to do and... I don't know what his punishment was, but he was supposed to serve it until his penance had been reached! By law of Arendelle, set down by my great-great-great-Grandfather King Njål, any man who attempts assassination of a ruling Arendelle monarch- male or female- shall be forced to serve out his penance, whatever is seen fit, for the remainder of his natural life! So how did he get out?"_

It was very evident by now to Yelena that this realization that the man, badly wounded in the hut had somehow- someway- managed to escape a life of forced penance for her near assassination that day on the fjord, upset Elsa greatly. The snow that appeared began to swirl; the temperature continued to drop, and frozen fractals began to appear on every available surface. It was becoming clear that this was just pushing Elsa's anger further. The young woman's anger continued to grow, and she soon began to shake-

And then Gale swept Elsa off her feet; the Snow Queen crashed to the ice beneath her, knocking the wind out of her long enough for her to lose her focus on the realization that _Hans_ was being treated by her tribe. Bruni jumped as Elsa fell, and scurried towards the cooking fire pit he'd hidden in earlier. Catching her breath, Elsa looked up. _"What was that for, Gale?"_ But the wind whirled around her, grabbing her wrists and yanking her up. _"Hey! Stop! Put me down!"_

The snow began to drift gently, what with Elsa's attention occupied elsewhere, and the Northuldra slowly came out of shelter to watch as the wind spirit swirled faster and faster around the young woman, never letting go of her wrists. A small tornado- Gale's form to deal with interlopers or intruders to the forest- appeared, carrying Elsa away. The Snow Queen let out a shout as she tumbled within the tornado, unsure of where they were going and wanting to simply be put down. Without a word, Yelena and the others in the tribe hurried to follow the two elementals, arriving at the river.

They managed to reach the rocky cliff in time to see Gale unceremoniously dump Elsa into the water with a screech. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Yelena couldn't help a small chuckle at the sight of the Protector of the Enchanted Forest sitting in a shallow part of the river, her long snow white hair a windswept mess, cheeks flushed, and looking green. Slowly, the banner floated down, landing spread across Elsa's lap and into the water. A moment passed, as Elsa swallowed thickly, before,

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Gale, now calm, came over to dance about Elsa, tugging at her hair and skirts. She tugged at the banner, but Elsa grabbed it. " _No_. Leave that alone, it belongs to me." But Gale persisted, yanking the banner from Elsa's hands and throwing it over her head. Elsa, too out of breath and nauseated to move at the moment, reached up, tugging the banner down. "Oh, _now_ you want to play?" Finally getting her bearings back, Elsa stood on shaky legs; Gale ducked between them, throwing up Elsa's skirt in the process. _"Hey!"_

She looked up at the sound of footsteps in time to see Yelena and the others hurry towards her. All were concerned, though Yelena held a look of mirth within her eyes.

"Are you okay, Elsa?" Ryder asked, and Elsa huffed. They had seen the spirits battle before, but ever since Elsa had come, rarely had she been involved. She was usually the one who _broke up_ the fights, for it was her job to keep the balance. So to see Elsa scooped up by the wind spirit and thrown about like a child's rag doll before being tossed in the shallow end of the river, was a surprise to everyone. But clearly it had done the trick, and calmed her down.

The Snow Queen stopped rubbing her neck and turned to Ryder. "Depends. Does the nausea from being tossed around in a tornado cancel out the throbbing pain from being tossed in the river or not?" He stared at her, and she waved it away. "Never mind." She passed by Yelena and the rest, still clutching the banner, and climbed atop the hand of one of the earth giants, who set her, along with the rest of the Northuldra, back on the ground near the camp. She nodded in thanks, but didn't follow the others. Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, holding the banner, gaze locked on her hut, where he lay, just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

Honeymaren reached out to lay a hand on Elsa's shoulder, but the young woman jerked away, striding through the camp towards her hut. She wanted so much to turn tail and run, but something in the back of her mind wouldn't let her. _You are a Queen of Arendelle. We don't run, no matter how badly we want to. We stand and face our fears, no matter how frightened we are._ She snorted. _Where were you at my coronation, or did that not count?_

She got no reply.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out, hesitating only a moment before grabbing the flap of her hut and slipping inside. Hans looked up when she entered, and for several minutes, neither moved, nor breathed. They just stared at each other, unsure of where to begin. She held the banner in her grasp, studying him in silence. Hans, for his part, didn't know if it was actually Elsa, for the last time he'd seen her, she'd been crouched on the fjord, broken down in tears, awaiting her fate. And then she spoke, and he knew it was her.

_"What, in God's green earth, are you doing out of the Southern Isle?"_

It was more accusation than question, more hiss than actual speech. She stood as regal as she had the moment she was crowned that day, except she wore no crown, no Arendelle insignia, no full skirt or magenta cape. Instead, she wore a long white, sleeveless dress over a pair of light grey leggings. That once platinum blonde hair was now white as freshly fallen snow; no longer was it tied up around her head, or hanging in a messy braid down her back. It flowed freely in a sheet of white silk, slightly curled and soft as fresh snow down her back. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been twenty-one, perhaps more innocent than her sister, but in a different way. Now though, she looked older, possibly twenty-five or twenty-six, and there was a maturity about her that came with time.

He tried to sit up, but the pain in his ribs worked against him, and he sighed. She didn't move, she was too busy studying him. Now that she was standing over him, she could see that it was true, and not just a cruel trick of the mind; he looked haggard, worn down, as though life these last few years had dealt him a horrid blow. She couldn't say she wasn't happy he'd obviously had it rough these last few years, but she wasn't sorry, either.

"It's a long story, Elsa." He replied, swallowing thickly. She never took her eyes off him, and refused to move.

"Long story?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "Shorten it for me." Her gaze flicked down to the banner. "And tell me how you got this! This was from my coronation-"

"I know it was. You gave it to me."

The shut her up.

She started, eyes widening and mouth dropping. "Wh... _what?_ "

"Nearly six years ago, at your coronation, you gave all the visiting dignitaries and representatives a banner, to remember the day. I was one of them." He swallowed, wincing at the pain in his rib. She stayed silent. "As for why I'm not longer in the Southern Isles..." He swallowed. "Let's just say that my brothers exiled me about six months ago. Said they didn't want me there anymore, national shame that I was." He turned from her, but something about her caused him to turn back. "Why aren't you in Arendelle?"

Just then, the flap of the hut opened and Yelena and the healer came in to check him over and clean his dressings. Elsa took this as a good time to flee.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I think she was trying to make this as mythical and mystical and interesting as possible without weighing it down too much with myth and legend and philosophy and the like. I know there's a mention of the old 1780s sea shanty My Jolly Sailor Bold in this chapter somewhere, and an attempt at tying possible reincarnation, water having memory and elemental magic together. Let's see how she does, shall we?

She fled back to the safety of Ahtohallan.

It was the only place where she didn't have to be near him, see him, hear about him. She wouldn't be surrounded by the reminder that he was there, recuperating in her hut, tainting _her_ tribe, tainting her _home_. She scurried up the stairs to the library, and proceeded to pull every book off the shelves, in hopes of finding something that would explain the reappearance of evil in life. When she found nothing, she turned her attention to penance, scanning the books she thought would hold some definition or explanation.

Sitting on the floor before the blue flames of the fire, she ran her finger down page after page, book after book until-

"Aha!" She squinted, struggling to read against the flickering firelight before shifting to where she could read the full sentence. " _La véritable pénitence consiste à regretter sans cesser les défauts du passé, et à résoudre fermement de ne plus jamais commettre ce qui est si déplorable_."

She lifted her head, letting herself think over the phrase until she could remember the translation from French. _'True penance... consists in regretting without ceasing the faults of the past, and in firmly resolving to never again commit that which is so deplorable.'_

She let the book fall to her lap, the words of Bernard of Clairvaux washing over her. She was no closer to whatever she was searching for, and what was worse, was she didn't even remember _what_ she was searching for. Somewhere between speaking with Hans and returning to the glacier, the subject she was going to look up vanished from her mind. Sighing, she shut the book, and set it aside, back where she started. Without a word, she stood, and proceeded to put the books back on the shelves, before resting her forehead against the shelf with a groan.

Sighing, she left the library, hurrying down the stairs and out onto the steps. The soft sound of the sea crashing began to calm her down, as she walked towards the water's edge. The dutiful part of her nagged to return to the Northuldra, but her desire for calm was greater. And so she sat.

On the 'beach', knees to her chest, skirts fluttering in the breeze that came off the sea, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tilted her face towards the sky. A brilliant blue glistened overhead, and she sighed, closing her eyes. She could smell salt, and taste it in the air, and it reminded her of her father. Agnarr had spent two years as an Admiral in the Arendellian navy- something she'd discovered on her last trip into the the glacier. Which brought about the question she'd been trying to find an answer for for weeks; was she _destined_ to be her parents' child? Water was apparently in the blood, so why not powers over a subset of such a major element? When she'd been born, had the water in her father's blood remembered her mother's selfless act, and upon her birth, the spirits had decided that water would be her element? Or was she grasping at straws now?

Her eyes closed, and she turned her face to the sun overhead, letting the sound of the waves relax her. A soft tune began to fall from her lips; not her mother's lullaby, but something from her father's navy days. " _My heart is pierced by Cupid,_ _I disdain all glittering gold..."_

The old sea shanty had been something special between Elsa and her father, even after the accident with Anna. On her darkest days, Agnarr would sit one the other side of the door and sing the old shanty to her; it, perhaps more than Iduna's lullaby, would calm the frantic girl down even more. Though he never went into the room because his darling daughter never let him in, the shanty was what kept them connected. So to know that he had died by the sea's hand-

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away. She so rarely thought about her parents; even though she was the Guardian of Ahtohallan, and often went to relive memories, it was still painful. The fact that they had been caught in the Dark Sea on a quest to find the source of _her_ powers...

_"You are_ not _responsible for their choices."_ She sighed. _"No, Anna, just their deaths."_

The words still stung, all these years later, even though she now knew it wasn't her fault, and that she shouldn't treat it like it was, she had grown up feeling like a curse, and couldn't, even now, help feeling as though her very existence had a hand in their deaths. She remembered the moment she and Anna had stepped into the wreckage of their ship, the moment she'd laid her hands on the floor, reconstructed the moment of their deaths, listened to their screams. Heard how, even as they were swallowed by the sea, their father _still_ thought of his older daughter, his precious baby girl- _"We keep going- for Elsa!"_ The pain, the death, the agony had ripped at her heart, as she'd watched the water droplets form into a perfect sculpture of her parents being swallowed by the waves of the Dark Sea; their mother pressed against their father's chest, his body curved around hers, protecting her even in death.

Her mind returned to Olaf's water theory. It was perhaps the strangest theory she'd ever heard of, but the more she thought about it, the more it started to slowly make sense. Ahtohallan was nothing _but_ memories; it was ancient, left from the last Ice Age. There was a high probability that it contained not just the memories, but maybe even a touch of the souls of those lost, and maybe, when those seeking answers came, the piece of their soul that was left behind returned to them. She shook her head. _Where had_ that _come from?_

To say she was religious... well, she attended services every Sunday, and read and believed the word of the Bible, but she didn't take it as the be all and end all of life. Her father had taught her to question everything, even religion.

_"All religions can be looked at as absurd, my little Lisbet, but it is how we handle them that determines the true fools. Just because a man of the cloth quotes the Bible, does not necessarily mean it is truth. Remember, truth is the antithesis of falsehoods. If they constantly defend without just reason or cause, it is safe to say that prefer the falsehood to the truth. Never be ashamed to question religion; it will make you stronger for it, and help you to determine those who wish to undermine your rule._ "

And her father had been right. Thanks to his teachings, she'd been able to find the proverbial snake in the grass among her council four months after the Great Thaw. The man had quoted the good book at her, and then proceeded to tell her that she was a young, inexperienced, child of a queen, who had no place in a man's world, because God had decreed that all women be subservient to men. She'd stood up to him, drawing on her own knowledge of the Bible-

She shook her head. It wouldn't do to dwell on silly things from the past. There were more important matters at hand. After a moment, she lifted a hand, studying it in the sunlight. She rubbed her fingers against her palm; she could feel her own skin, could taste, touch, smell and hear... and yet, it was as though there was a second layer added to her. As though she wore two skins, one atop the other.

_But that goes back to the possibility of reincarnation-_

She turned back, gaze drifting past her palace to the glacier itself. There was a strange sense about it, that she could never put her finger on. After a moment, she got up, moving past the palace and going to the entrance of the glacier. Something inside it seemed to call to her- not just the voice or that of her mother, but something else, something deeper, ancient even.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way inside, following the same path she'd followed that long ago day. Her magic called out to it, a ripple underneath the skin, and it answered back. As she passed into what could have at one time been a throne room, she stopped. There it was again, that strange, tingling energy that pulsed against her skin, mirroring the pulse her magic made.

She swallowed, looking around, waiting. After a moment, she spoke up,

"I understand that I went too far. I won't go any further, but..." She swallowed thickly. "But I _am_ your guardian. It's my job to greet those that come with pure intent and protect you from those who don't." She felt ridiculous, standing in the throne-like room talking to a _glacier_ of all things. A warm breeze picked up, from somewhere deep within, ruffling her dress and playing with her hair, and her eyes closed on instinct.

_"You are the Guardian of all, not just me."_ Her eyes opened and she blinked, surprised to hear a deep, soothing voice, similar to her father's. _"You are the strongest of the elements, it is up to you to maintain balance between them."_

A soft gasp escaped her throat and she froze. In all her time here, she'd never heard an actual _voice_ respond to her questions. She had a question, balanced on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't make her mouth work. Finally, after several minutes, she spoke up. "The day... the day I discovered myself... the day I... I became..." She stopped, nervous. "I know that I froze, but... but did I die?"

She waited, and waited, and waited, only to hear nothing in return. Clearly, that was her answer; she was not to know. A moment passed, before she sighed, deciding it was best if she returned to her palace, her solitude and her books. With a bow, she turned and hurried back the way she came. Once back at the entrance, she let her thoughts take over. Her natural curiosity had started to take over again, and she knew she wouldn't be able to focus on anything else until she satisfied it, or tried to.

As she returned to her library, and began looking through the books, she felt the same warm caress upon her skin. It rippled through her, warm and tender, like a mother's touch. She couldn't place the voice that had spoken to her in the could-be throne room, but it had made it obvious that it was tied in a sense to her magic. _Of course it's tied to your magic, you are its guardian. You are the manifestation of Ahtohallan itself._

She lowered the book she'd been skimming through, the thought ringing in her head. There was no way that was true; if anything, reincarnation of a previous self was more probable than manifestation-

Her gaze landed on the banner she'd discarded on her desk, and after a moment, she set her book down and went to pick it up. It wasn't just that this was the one she'd given Hans at her coronation that distracted her thoughts now, it was the swirling manifestation of...

Those green eyes, meeting hers, filled with nothing but pain. The injuries he'd sustained, the confusion in his voice when he'd seen her, sitting so close to him they could have kiss, had he been well and she not been so shocked.

She sighed, casting away all thoughts of manifestations and reincarnations and mysterious voices. She couldn't stay here any longer; her restlessness wouldn't allow her to. But she refused to go back to the Northuldra right now, and she didn't feel comfortable returning to Arendelle. She glanced back at the banner in her hands, making up her mind. Grabbing her mother's shawl, she wrapped it around her neck and then conjured a small pouch she wore on her hip, tucking the banner into it.

Without glancing back, she turned and dashed from the palace, calling the Nokk to her once she reached the other side of the glacier. If she wasn't going to return to the Northuldra or Arendelle or stay here, then she might as well start looking for answers. And luckily, she knew where to start.


	6. Chapter 6

_Still there, they're all still there. It's all still there._

She gently slid off the Nokk, patting his muzzle before making her way towards what had once been the gypsies' camp. The bodies had not been touched; they lay decomposing slowly in the cool weather. At first, she wondered why the Northuldra had not come and buried them, given those that had died proper rites and burials, but then she remembered, that this was not Northuldra land; this was further east. Though they could pass through it if needed, they could not stay for long, because it belonged to another tribe; the relations between the two were civil, pleasant, though not enough for travelers to be allowed to stay within their lands for long.

But evidently, the gypsies had not known that.

From the looks of things, they had been crossing the land, and decided to settle- for how long, it wasn't known, nor important at the moment- in the valley, unaware they were settling in tribal land. Slowly, picking her way through the bodies, she looked for anything that might be a clue as to how Hans ended up with the gypsies. Cooking utensils, clothing, walking staffs, instruments and the like were scattered about; wagons were broken up and destroyed; a couple were left standing, the one Hans had been pinned under still lay on its side where it landed after she'd blasted it with her ice.

The stench was near unbearable, but Elsa knew not to attempt to bury them. As the Fifth Spirit, it was her job to keep the elements in line, not escort the souls of the dead to the afterlife. She couldn't help feeling a knot of grief for those that had died, however, especially when she passed by a woman, cradling a little girl in her arms, both long passed over to the other world.

_Death comes for us all, sometimes younger than others, but never quick. You know that first hand; your parents' deaths were long and torturous. They suffered as their ship went down in the Dark Sea._ She turned away; it was a question she struggled with constantly now. Her parents had died, and the realization that they had been trying to cross the Dark Sea to find answers about her still weighed heavily upon her mind, and always would, no matter the years that would pass. But even more so than her guilt in her parents' demise, was the question of her own- had she truly died that day, when she'd jumped down into the depths of Ahtohallan?

_"Dive down deep into her sound, but not too far, or you'll be drowned..."_

Her mother's lullaby warned of death for the overly curious. And Elsa, as brilliant and starved for knowledge as she was, had gone too far, casting aside her mother's warning in order to learn the secrets of the past. And she'd found them- or, some of them. Sins of the past, were more like it.

But she knew that there was so much more that she hadn't found, hadn't uncovered yet, and she needed answers. She wouldn't stop until she had the answers she sought. Taking her father's last words to heart, she had to keep going. No matter if Ahtohallan itself seemed against her ever burgeoning curiosity.

Her own quest for answers would have to wait; she needed to find out what had happened here, and how Hans had ended up with the gypsies in the first place. She thought back over what she'd learned that day, when she'd found Hans- no, when the voice had called her to him, she corrected. Bandits, he'd said; bandits had done this, attacked the camp, and apparently slaughtered everyone, leaving him alive yet pinned beneath a wagon. Right off the bat, Elsa couldn't tell what had been taken and what hadn't; gypsies had no discernible wealth, they lived off handouts and scraps, living a very nomadic, wandering existence, always moving from one place to the next, never setting down roots.

She also knew, from studying the history books she had in her library, that many in the medieval period believed gypsies to be unbaptized heathens, only good for stealing and deceit. _So Hans fits right in with them then._ She quickly shook her head, casting the nasty thought aside. It wasn't her place to judge the people of gypsy blood; from what she could see, they were a peaceful people, who chose a wandering existence, shirking all modern comforts. They were a people who wished simply to be left alone. _Like the Northuldra._

She stopped her searching, the thought too loud in the quiet of the valley as it rang in her head. While not the same, her mother's people had chosen to live in peace, far away from Arendelle and other 'civilized' kingdoms. They lived a contented, peaceful life, a settled life, living in harmony with the elements of nature. And in her two short years with them, Elsa had learned so much- not just about her mother, but her mother's tribe. _Her_ tribe.

Though she possessed the blonde hair and blue eyes of her Arendellian father, she was a mirror image of her mother, Iduna, who came from one of the oldest families of the tribe. Iduna, who shared a special bond with Gale. Iduna, who risked her own life and saved her enemy when the fighting broke out, and then escaped the forest with him before the mist rolled in, trapping those inside for thirty-four years. Iduna, who kept her blood hidden until just before Elsa had been born. Iduna, who had been the daughter of the next chief, and granddaughter of the one who had been slaughtered by her paternal grandfather-

_So you have every right to be here; the Northuldra are your people, your tribe. You are, essentially, their princess._ She sighed; she had only learned that last detail on her last visit into Ahtohallan. It had been a shock, to discover that her mother- Queen of Arendelle by marriage, was actually Princess of the Northuldra by birth. Until she'd disappeared that long ago day thirty-six years earlier. So, by right of just her birth in general, Elsa was Princess of the Northuldra. That didn't include her magic or her role as the Fifth Spirit. It was completely separate. _Make sure to remind Kristoff to add that to your list of titles next family game night._

She turned her attention back to the carnage around her, picking through everything and searching for anything that could give a clue as to what happened. After two hours of searching- she hadn't realized she'd been at it for two hours, until she felt the sun begin to beat down and glanced up, seeing it directly overhead- she finally came across something that could have been useful. As small and lithe as she was, she took the opportunity to crawl into the overturned wagon she'd freed Hans from.

Though it looked small on the outside, inside it was quite good sized. If it weren't for the fact that it was on its side, it would have been truly lovely. From her place half in the overturned caravan, she could see a sleeping nook at the very back; conjuring a small ball of snowflakes so that she could see by their light, she realized that the nook was strewn with beautifully decorated blankets. There were utensils, a couple instruments, shoes, a deck of cards, a basket of vegetables... It was evident that gypsies lived well, despite their nomadic lifestyles. Something brushed against her head, and slowly she looked up, only to find herself facing what appeared to be some sort of strange glass sphere, decorated with gems and gold chain and dangling from a similar gold chain; something sweet wafted out of it, and she breathed deeply for a moment.

Sage.

After a moment, she crawled fully inside and began looking for anything that could give her some answers. As she moved towards the sleeping nook, something caught her eye. It took her a couple moments, as she tried to pry open what appeared to be a drawer or cabinet in one side of the sleeping nook, but it was stuck. Something told her that there was something inside it, something important, that had to do with the slaughter of the gypsies, Hans and how he ended up with them. She couldn't describe it, she just knew.

It briefly crossed her mind that she could blast it with ice, but then she thought better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was damage the entire wagon, regardless of whether the gypsies who owned it were dead or not. She was not that type of person. _First rule of nature, respect it. Live side by side with it and respect it for what it gives._ Could she honestly say that a caravan was nature? It was made of wood, which came from the forest, and at one point, that wood had been trees that had lived and breathed. Elsa wouldn't go so far as to say that trees had souls, but as the Fifth Spirit and the Keeper of the Balance, she had gained a new respect for the forests she lived among.

After working on trying to wrench the drawer free for several minutes, she gave up, looking around for something she could use to pry it loose. She rummaged around for several minutes, before finding a small knife near the kitchen area, and grabbed it. She rammed the blade into the wood, wriggling it firmly. With a grunt, she pushed down, letting out a soft gasp as she finally felt the drawer begin to loosen. After several minutes of annoyed struggle, it finally came free, jutting out and slamming into her stomach. She let out a grunt of surprise, sitting back on her butt among the chaos of the caravan. Taking deep breath, she righted the drawer, and looked inside.

A brow furrowed.

It wasn't anything fantastical, not that she was expecting anything of that magnitude, but she was expecting something more than just a simple carved wooden-

_Box? A box? That's what was hiding in this drawer? How anticlimactic._

Realizing that she couldn't see for the lack of light, she held the box to her chest and made her way out of the caravan, back into the light. She made her way to the Nokk, who stood waiting patiently for her. With a glance at the horse, she knelt down, laying the box on the grass at her feet and letting herself study it.

It was beautiful, now that it was out in the light. It was of medium size, with gold hinges and a gold clasp to keep it closed. The wood was a beautiful greyish white, and there was a delicate carving of a five diamond pattern in the center with an eel wrapped around a crocus at the top of the design shooting out from the center diamond. Cautiously, Elsa reached out, brushing her fingers over the unfamiliar symbols. _No, not unfamiliar- the golden crocus is Arendelle. But what is the eel?_

She knew she'd seen the eel symbol before, but she couldn't think where. Quickly, she wracked her brain for any mention of heraldry; she'd studied it, her father had made sure she grew up knowing the heralds of each country, and their significance. Her eyes closed, as her brain pulled up images of the heralds of each country. _Eel... the brown eel is a type of fish... found most commonly along the coasts of the south, but particularly in the..._

Her blue eyes snapped open and she gasped, suddenly remembering where she'd seen the eel before. Without another word, she grabbed the box and then climbed back up onto the Nokk. Holding it tight to her chest, she nudged him to go, before she stopped and looked back. A moment passed, before she reached out and waved a hand. Instantly, several sheets of ice appeared, covering each body left in the open air protectively. That way no one who came through could go about raiding the corpses. She glanced at the caravans left, and did the same to them, before spurring the Nokk back to the camp. It was a small favour, but one she didn't mind doing for the dead.

Halfway to the camp, she veered the Nokk towards the river, and got off once he'd stopped. The horse glanced at her, and she nodded; he walked towards the river, glancing back at Elsa. "When I decide to return to Ahtohallan, I will call you, my friend."

The horse snorted and tossed its head, bowing to her; she returned the bow and watched as it leapt back into the river. Once he was gone, Elsa took a seat on her rock, settling the box in her lap. She trace the design on the top with shaky fingers, before reaching to open it. However, she found it wouldn't open. Several minutes passed as she tried to get it open, to no avail. A sigh escaped her throat, and after a moment, she decided it was probably better to put it away than keep it out in the open. It wasn't that she didn't trust those in the tribe, but she really didn't want to have to explain how she'd gone poking around the death site and essentially broken into a ransacked wagon. With a wave of her hand she made the pouch at her waist just a little bit bigger, turning it into a bag. She quickly wrapped the banner around the box and then returned it to the bag, adjusting so the strap lay across her body. Then, with a soft sigh, she stood, making her way from the river towards the camp.

The walk was nice, the sunshine warm; Gale whistled by with an air of happiness, and Elsa laughed. Soon, she could see the camp in her line of vision. She stopped, a worrisome thought tugging and creating a crease between her brows as the corners of her mouth turned down. Right. _Hans._

Suddenly, her ice palace seemed a whole lot more appealing. Without a word, she turned, stalking back towards the river, nose in the air. So she was still upset at discovering it was Hans she'd saved; she was allowed to be upset- he'd nearly beheaded her, once upon a time! And she refused to face the scolding tongue of Yelena in regards to her avoiding the camp. Not today. She could go one more day without staying with the Northuldra. With any luck, by the time she did return, Hans would be moved to another hut and she could have her home back. At that point, that was all she hoped or; it would be too much to hope he'd be completely gone by tomorrow, given how badly he'd been injured.

With a sigh, she knelt down by the river's edge when she reached it, reaching in to swirl her fingers within. "Hey, Nokk. It's me." Before Elsa could pull her fingers from the water, the Nokk was standing before her, waiting patiently. Without a word, she climbed onto his back, spurring him towards the Dark Sea.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone's handling this lock down okay. We're all doing fine here; as fine as we can be. Good think for fan fiction, right?
> 
> So we've got a couple mysteries going on now, don't we? Elsa's 'possible' death, Hans's arrival and subsequent injuries, and now the box. And that's just the beginning. She wraps a lot into one book, so be prepared. And as you can obviously tell, Elsa in this is very much... she very much relies on literature and philosophy and general book knowledge, versus Anna, who, in this- as you'll see at some point, but not right now- is more along the common sense and reading people knowledge, something Elsa has always had trouble grasping, especially since she spent the first thirteen years of her life isolated. Don't worry, Elsa won't bury herself so deep in her books the whole time, there will be things that come up and secrets that are exposed that will force her hand, so that she has to expose more and more of herself- ie, her emotions. And Hans plays a huge part; he is carrying a secret, after all. One that will definitely cause him to butt heads with Elsa on more than one occasion. This IS Hans/Elsa, after all, but it's going to be a very slow, slow burn.
> 
> Zani didn't want to rush things (even though she wrote this in two days), because there's a lot to unwrap and figure out. Zani called this her multi-layer cake, and we're only on the first couple of layers. I think it's her favorite of all the stories she's written for the site so far, especially because she tends to have so much trouble writing mystery and suspense.

She set the box down gently on the desk, her gaze flicking to her letter to Anna. Something told her that she had to finish it, for Anna hadn't heard from her in at least two weeks, and she'd start to worry, if she wasn't worried already. She turned her attention back to the box, weighing her options. Finally making a decision, she picked up the letter, opened the drawer in her desk, placed it inside, and then shut the drawer, locking it and slipping the key back into the small box that sat in the corner of her desk. _There, now you have one less distraction._

A wince passed through her body; the last thing she hated thinking was that Anna was a distraction. She hated thinking anything about Anna; she was her little sister, and she loved her deeply. Anna had loved her when no one else had, had supported her when everyone else turned their backs on her. Anna had always and would always love her, because they were sisters, and sisters meant unconditional love.

_You're my sister, Elsa, I love you. I will never look at you like a monster. Never._

And she hadn't, not once, not even during that disastrous coronation of hers. Hell, she'd trekked clear up to the Northern mountain to get her and bring her home, at risk to her own life. _And then you froze her heart._ She winced again. _But she didn't abandon you, even then, she still tried to save you, to bring you back to Arendelle, and in the end, she froze to death for you._

She sighed. Anna had saved her from Hans's sword that day-

Her countenance darkened. _Hans._

Blue eyes flicked down to the box on the desk. _That smug, smarmy, self-righteous, egotistical, philandering, bastard._ Oh, just the thought of him made her so... _angry_. If it wasn't for Hans, Elsa would have never run, she never would have frozen Anna's heart, never would have-

_Never would have what?_ The small voice in the back of her head reasoned. _Never would have discovered that Anna truly loved you, that you could have the relationship you always wanted with her? Never would have discovered who you truly are if you hadn't gone running off to the North Mountain, or broken the curse that trapped the Enchanted Forest, and discovered who you_ truly _are?_ She groaned in annoyance. _You're the Fifth Spirit, the Guardian of Ahtohallan, the Bridge between the two worlds. If it hadn't been for Hans, you wouldn't have become the queen you were, you wouldn't have-_

She shook her head. _No. I would have still been a great queen, regardless of whether that egotistical bastard-_

_You were weak. And you know it. You would have been a weak ruler if Hans hadn't done what he did during the Great Freeze._

_"Shut up!"_ She lashed out, ice blasting out of her palm and striking the window of the library. She stepped back, stunned. The last time she'd lost her temper like that-

Without a word, she sank heavily onto the sofa, wrapping her arms around herself. It took several minutes for her to calm herself down, and when she did, the small, snarky voice in her head had silenced, leaving her in relative peace, for the time being. After a moment, she stood, stalking from the library and down the stairs, towards the small kitchen. At first, a kitchen had seemed out of sorts for an ice palace, but after the first couple of days, she realized that she liked the comfort and familiarity, and so modeled it after the kitchens in the palace at Arendelle, albeit much smaller. On autopilot, she grabbed a mug and a sachet of tea, before grabbing the kettle. With flick of the wrist, she filled it with ice, and then set it over the flames in the hearth before taking a seat at the small table to wait for it to boil.

She sighed, something niggling at the back of her brain. Yelena had told her once, when she'd refused to eat, that it may be her decision to take food or not, but in the end, it would only be doing her harm to turn it away. _"You are just like everyone else, Spirit, you need to eat to survive."_

_"Wait, so... does that mean I'm human? I_ didn't _die in Ahtohallan that day?"_

Yelena had simply shrugged, refusing to answer. Instead, she'd changed the topic. _"You are more than just the Fifth Spirit, you are the bridge between our worlds. It is your duty to protect the forest and keep the balance between the elements, to protect-"_

_"The people, all the people, from here to Arendelle-"_

_"No, not Arendelle."_ Yelena's reply had been sharp, startling. _"You can do no more for Arendelle than they can do for you."_

_"But I am the queen. Regardless of whether I abdicated in favour of my sister or not, I am still the queen, I will always be the queen-"_

_"You are no longer a queen, Spirit, you are a goddess."_

_"Goddess? No. My mother was the princess of the Northuldra, and Queen of Arendelle by marriage. I am Queen of Arendelle and Princess of the Northuldra by right of my birth-"_

_"Be that as it may, Spirit, you are also a goddess."_ The chief had sighed, reaching out and taking her arm. _"Elsa, you must understand. You are what Great Mother spoke of. When Great Mother created the Northuldra, she spoke of a child. A little girl, that would be born of two opposing sides, gifted with powers the powers of the ancients, who would grow to become the Guardian of Ahtohallan and the Protector of the Enchanted Forest, who would not know her true purpose until she had taken the crown of her father and gone on a journey in search of her mother. This young woman would break the curse placed on the Forest and tame the spirits, discover the secret of her parents and obtain her full powers, becoming the Goddess of the Elements, who will have full control over the elements of nature and bridge the gap between the physical world and the elemental. This child, this girl born of two enemies, of two worlds, is to be the Fifth Spirit. Great Mother foresaw your arrival before the Northuldra walked the earth."_

_"Great Mother? You mean Mother Nature?"_

Yelena had simply shrugged, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off the Elsa's cheek. _"She has many names, and we respect her, as we respect you and the other spirits."_

_"But Yelena, I don't under-"_

The shrieking of the tea kettle tore her from the memory, and she stood, removing it and quickly pouring a cup. The chief had been particularly mystical and cryptic that day, and left Elsa with nothing but more questions than answers. _As if I don't need any more of those. I've got enough questions already, I didn't need anymore to try to answer._

Without a word, she left the kitchen and returned to the library, setting her cup on the small end table, gaze automatically going to the box on her desk. Taking a deep breath, she went over, picking up a letter opener and sliding it into the lock. She struggled for several minutes before finally giving up and with a shriek of annoyance, she slammed the letter opener down. Clearly she couldn't jimmy it open with something, but perhaps...

Thinking quickly, she conjured a flurry of snowflakes, directing them at the latch, leaving it for a few minutes before taking a candlestick and smashing the ice. Setting the candlestick back down, she moved to lift the lid-

Only to find it wouldn't open.

Clearly it was as frozen as her ice. With a grunt of annoyance, she shoved the box aside, stalking towards the shelves. She browsed the shelves for nearly two hours, finding nothing about mysterious gypsy boxes or conjoined heralds. By the time she'd given up, her tea had gone cold, and she was tired, both physically and mentally. Leaving the box in the library, she trudged up the stairs to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. With a flick of the wrist, she changed into a pair of pajamas made of frost and snow, and crawled beneath the covers, shifting to look out the window. Darkness was finally settling over the world, casting everyone into slumber, and soon she followed, but her sleep would be anything but restful.

_"Do you think the forest will wake again?"_

_"Only Ahtohallan knows."_

_"Ahta-who-what?"_

_"When I was little, my mother would sing a song about a special river called Ahtohallan. That was said to hold all the answers about the past, about what we are apart of."_

_"Will you sing it for us? Please?"_

_"Okay, cuddle close, skooch in. '_ _Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a river full of memory. Sleep my darlings, safe and sound, for in this river all is found...'"_

In her sleep, she began to cry, curling around herself as she cuddled against her mother in her memories. Though her sleep was fitful, her body was just tired enough to not protest as the memories of Iduna came floating back to the surface. Perhaps it was her connection to Ahtohallan, her role as the guardian, as the Fifth Spirit, or her magic, but this particular memory had been waiting, just below the surface, to return. It was the last happy memory she had of her mother, before she'd been locked away, forced into the isolation that would define her life.

Her mother's voice sang to her, giving her the warning that she should have heeded that long ago day when she first came to Ahtohallan. But she hadn't; her stubbornness to find the truth and her natural curiosity had led her deeper and deeper into the depths of the glacier, until she'd stepped off the path, and sealing her own fate. And yet, she'd also discovered the truth of the forest, and the betrayal that Arendelle had done to the Northuldra, the reason for the battle, and the answer to the forest being sealed for thirty-four years.

At the cost of her own life.

_"No... what's... Anna..."_

She curled tighter around herself, beginning to shiver as she relived the moment she began to freeze, the realization that she'd gone too far and would now pay for her curiosity. The ice had skittered across her skin like ants over an anthill; it had seemed to freeze her from the inside out, coating her lungs and heart until she couldn't breathe-

_"No!"_

With a sob, she bolted upright in bed, grabbing for the stitch in her chest. It took her several minutes to calm down, to get her breathing back under control, and she quickly scrambled out of bed, stumbling in front of the small fireplace at the other side of the room. She sat back, arms wrapped around herself as her breathing slowly returned to normal. She quickly checked her hands, onto to find them free of ice. With a sigh, she lowered her head, before curling up in front of the fire; soft sobs soon escaped her, but she didn't try to stop.

_How can I not have died that day when I felt my heart stop? Or was it just my imagination?_


	8. Chapter 8

She returned to the Northulda the next day, trying to shake the sleeplessness away. She'd eventually fallen asleep in front of the fire, and awoken sore and shaking from her dreams, and not necessarily in the best of moods. So when she entered the camp that early morning before the dawn, she wasn't exactly in the mood to talk to anyone. Her mother's shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, and she had the small pouch around her waist that held the banner from her coronation.

"Good morning, Spirit!"

"Elsa, you're back!"

_"About time!"_ She stopped, surprised to find Honeymaren and Ryder before her, but she simply nodded and moved past them. Without a word, she made her way back to her hut just as Yelena and the healer stepped out.

"So, have you _finally decided_ to grace us with your presence, Spirit?" Elsa refused to meet Yelena's eyes, locking them on the flap of her hut. The older woman noticed that she ignored her, and let it pass. It was evident the girl- for though she was fully grown, she was still relatively young, not just as a woman, but as a spirit- hadn't gotten much sleep in the last few days, for the dark circles beneath her eyes and the haggard expression upon her face. Clearly, her dreams had been plagued with fears she could not shake."If you are here to see if he has left, he has not. He will not be fully healed for several months. The condition you found him in will not heal easily overnight."

Elsa winced, closing her eyes at Yelena's sharp tongue. She didn't particularly feel like being chided as though she were some child, especially when she was the most powerful spirit in the forest, but then again, she was so exhausted, she didn't have the energy to protest. So she took it. "The bruises are starting to fade, and the gash on his forehead is healing quite nicely with the help of the poultices we've been applying. The internal bleeding has stopped and we were able to set both his leg and his ribs."

"That's... nice to know."

The older woman raised an eyebrow, but continued, knowing that was all she was going to get out of the woman. "He asked about you." She saw Elsa's gaze dart quickly from the tent flap to her and back. "He wants to speak to you, Spirit." The girl didn't move, and after a moment, Yelena went to her, taking her hand reassuringly. "He told me that when you did return, he wanted to speak with you."

The girl's head snapped up at that. "What?"

"I told him that when you returned, I would send you to him, so that he could talk to you himself."

Elsa quickly shook her head. "No. No, I don't want to hear anything he has to say."

She moved go, but Yelena tightened her grip, refusing to release her. Elsa glanced down at the chief's hand, and tugged again, but Yelena tightened her grip, tugging the girl back until they were nose to nose. "You are not going to run, Elsa. I do not know the past you share with this man, but right now that's not important. Whatever he has done, he is trying to make amends. At least _listen_ to him." As she spoke, Yelena had laid a hand against the girl's back, and lifted the flap, finally shoving her inside.

The girl stumbled, catching herself just before she lost her balance and landed sprawled on his chest. He looked up at her, as surprised to her as she was to see him. Finally, the snow-white blonde straightened, tucking her hair behind her ears. Neither spoke for several minutes, before Elsa turned to go- only to find Honeymaren standing guard. "Yelena told me not to let you leave until you two have spoken."

With a soft grunt, the girl turned back, knowing it was no good trying to reason or get the upper hand with Honeymaren. She slowly turned her gaze to the man lying before her; he was shirtless, his ribs bounds in cloth, the gash on his head coated in a poultice to help with healing, his leg in a splint. The bruises were starting to fade, and he was slowly getting some of his color back. His long hair was tied back, and he looked tired, probably about as tired as she felt. His voice was raspy from lack of use when he finally spoke,

"Elsa-"

"Look, I don't want to hear it, Hans. I have no use, need nor want for you pathetic excuses. What you did back at my coronation is unforgivable. You left my sister to die and then tried to assassinate me-"

"You think I'm trying to excuse what I did? Elsa, I wanted to apologize."

"And you never even thought- _what?_ " Her blue eyes widened, and she met his gaze. He sighed.

"I wanted to apologize, for what I did at your coronation." She fell silent, suddenly unsure of how to act, but knowing that she couldn't possibly believe a word he was saying. This man had weaseled his way into his sister's heart, sicked his men on her, locked her in a dungeon, left her sister to die, and then, when she herself had finally gotten free, attempted to behead her. And now, here he was, nearly seven years later, claiming he wanted to _apologize_? She wasn't that stupid. Young, naive, and still finding her way in the world, sure, but stupid she was not.

"Apologize?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "There is _nothing_ you could do or say that would make up for what you did and tried to do that day, Hans. _Nothing._ " She turned to go, something tugging at her brain. _Ask him about the box. He'll know what the eel means, it's his box. Ask him!_

But she ignored it, grasping the hut flap and pulling open- "Oh, no you don't! You two haven't talked! Get back in there!"

_"There's nothing to talk about! Hey! What are you doing? Let go!"_

Honeymaren roughly shoved her back into the hut, yanking the flap down. _"You're not to leave that hut until you've talked! Yelena's orders!"_

_"You can't do this, Honeymaren! I'm the Fifth Spirit! You have no right-"_

"Fifth what?" She stopped at Hans's voice, suddenly realizing that she'd slipped up. She closed her eyes, biting back a grunt of annoyance, and slowly turned to face him. He studied her, green eyes filled with confusion. She could feel his gaze slowly move over her, drinking in her dress, her slippers, her hair. "Elsa... why aren't you in Arendelle?"

She looked up, meeting his gaze. It was the same question he'd asked her when she'd stalked off that day. Suddenly, she narrowed her gaze. "What does it matter to you? Your plan failed. And why are you not still in the Southern Isles? _How the hell did you get out?_ "

He sighed, clearly she wasn't going to answer his question until he answered hers. After a moment, he shifted, watching as she slowly lowered herself to the floor of the hut, crossing her legs and leaning back against the wall, watching him. They lapsed into silence for several minutes, each studying the other, refusing to give in. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, he spoke,

"Elsa, I... I know I hurt you-"

"That's an understatement." She muttered, and he sighed.

"- and I know that not matter what I say will never make up for what I did. _But_ ," He stopped her; she snapped her mouth shut, lips thinning. "I do want to apologize." She stayed silent, letting him continue. "As for why I'm no longer in the Southern Isle, well..." He sighed. "After you sent me back to the Isles, I was sentenced to hard labor, which was fine, I didn't mind it. If anything, I was relieved; I was away from the palace and away from my brothers, which was more blessing than curse." He watched her, saw how she remained quiet, and took that to mean he could continue on. "Up until about six months ago, I was still in the Isles, serving out my sentence. I was perfectly content to serve out my sentence for the rest of my days."

She studied him, watching his eyes. _You can tell a lie from the person's eyes, remember that Lisbet. The eyes aren't just the windows to the soul, they can tell the truth or spin a lie, depending on whether the person is looking up or down, left or right. Everything on the left is the truth, everything on the right is a lie. Up and left means they're remembering, up and right means it's a lie. Remember that, my little Lisbet, and you'll always be able to know if you can trust people._ She watched his green gaze dart to the left and up, and she sighed.

So he was telling the truth. She had hoped he would be lying, that way she could just storm out, regardless of Yelena's warning. He stopped, and she gestured for him to continue. "And then about six months ago, my brother decided to exile me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Exile?" He nodded. Exile was rare in Arendelle, but in other countries... she knew that kingdoms like Corona and Dutch colonies often used exile of political prisoners instead of allowing them to fall into the wrong hands, but the Southern Isles? She had never heard of the exile as a form of punishment used in the Southern Isles; she knew that usually, prisoners- especially political ones like Hans- were usually put to death.

"My brother gave me two days to get out of the Isles, forbidden to return, so I left, came up to the north, into Rustiksan, and then worked my way through Fendarcia." Elsa nodded; she knew the two provinces well; they had been major allies with Arendelle for years.

"How did you end up with the _sigøynere?"_

He sighed. "I... I collapsed one night, unknowingly not far from their camp. A few of them found me, nursed me back to health. Their leader knew my language, and explained that when they left, I could come with them. I agreed; it would get me further away from the Isles, since I was no longer allowed to return, and they had been kind. I had no real plans for anywhere specific, and I was content, these last six months with them. They did not ask about my past or why I was wandering, and I did not give an explanation."

She nodded, wanting so badly to believe he was lying... but something told her deep down that he wasn't. "You were found in the _Dødsdalen_ ," She finally said, meeting his gaze briefly. "That is not a part of our land; that is further east. It belongs to the Konalmir tribe."

"Okay?"

"You were passing through their land. When I found you, it looked like you had made camp. Per tribal law, people are allowed to _pass through_ Konalmir land, but not camp. They are not allowed to stay. I think that is why the camp was attacked, because they had decided to settle, not realizing it wasn't allowed. We, my tribe, the Northuldra... we have an agreement with the Konalmir; the Enchanted Forest and her surrounding areas belongs to us and everything to the east belongs to them. We don't cross them and they don't cross us-"

"Wait..." He stopped her, something catching his attention. "You said 'my tribe', Elsa. But... but you don't belong here. You belong in Arendelle."

She opened her mouth, only to snap it shut and thin her lips as any form of response. _You slipped up, great! Just great! Why couldn't you keep your mouth shut?_

"And... who is the Fifth Spirit?"

"You know what, I don't need to tell you anything." She climbed to her feet, took annoyed with herself to even consider asking him about the box. "You told me all I'm willing to listen to today, Hans, and just because you apologized, _doesn't mean_ I will accept it, _am I clear_?" He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, nodding.

She turned, lifting up the flap, but his words stopped her halfway out of the hut. "Elsa?" She waited, glancing back at him. "You said earlier that, 'I am the Fifth Spirit'- what did you mean by that?"

She merely blinked at him, before stalking out of the hut and storming away, leaving him with questions just as he'd done.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So we have an... answer.. as to how Hans ended up with the gypsies, but that still doesn't explain the box, what's inside it or how he ended up with it, or what the eel and crocus carved together atop the box mean. Any suggestions?

The wind ruffled her hair, swirling around her in attempt to get her to play, but Elsa ignored her. She sat curled upon in the hand of one of the earth giants, his huge stone fingers curled up to give her some privacy as she lay studying the crevices and erosion of the rock, her mind going through a thousand questions. After her talk with Hans, she'd stormed out of not just her hut, but the camp, going north to where the giants were, knowing that very few Northuldra would follow her. The talk with Hans had brought up more questions than given answers, and only added to the confusion of everything.

"Not now Gale, I'm not in the mood." She waved the wind away, only for Gale to drop something beside her. Her gaze lit on the piece of paper, folded like a bird, beside her, and she grabbed it, shifting onto her back as she opened it up and began to read. She instantly recognized the familiar scrawl and golden crocus stationary of Arendelle; she had a set of the same stationary- only with a dark green 'EoA' right below the crocus, that was her personal monogram.

Her heart fell.

_Dear Elsa,_

_I haven't heard from you in a while, and I was worried. I know you're busy, especially this time of the year, and I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Charades is still on Friday night if you want to come, though I understand if you're busy and can't make it. Please let me know that you're okay. I miss you, Elsa, and I love you. So, so much._

_Love,_

_Anna_

She sighed, folding up the letter and slipping it into the pouch at her waist. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Anna; she hadn't even finished the letter she'd been working on for her sister, she sure as hell wasn't going to start another one when the first wasn't even finished. Then, she shifted back onto her side, becoming lost in her thoughts.

Hans had been exiled after serving his time. But that didn't make sense. _You specifically suggested to the Southern Isles that his sentence was to be indefinite hard labor, well and truly away from the rest of the world, and yet, he only does... what? six? seven? years before being released._ She groaned, and the giant shifted slightly, curling his fingers further, shading her eyes from the sun. She suddenly couldn't remember how many years it had been- she knew she'd been the Fifth spirit for two full years at least, because it had been late fall of her twenty-fourth year when she'd broken the curse. Maybe it was just because she was tired and overthinking everything and neither Hans nor Anna were helping at the moment. With a groan of annoyance, she sat up, startling the giant, who quickly unfurled his fingers as she stood and got up. She quickly nodded her thanks the giant who nodded back, before turning and leaving.

She trekked back towards the camp, stalking past her hut just as Yelena exited. The healer had stayed to change the bandages around Hans's ribs, and once he was done, he too left. As she moved past the cooking fire, she heard a squeal, but didn't look up as Bruni scurried up her and settled on her shoulder. "Spirit!" She stopped, waiting for Yelena to speak next. "Supper is almost ready."

"No thank you, Yelena. I'm not hungry." She threw over her shoulder, not looking at the chief. Thinking that was the end of the conversation, she continued on.

"You need to eat."

Slowly, Elsa turned to face the chief. She lifted her chin, her patience wearing thin as she waited for the woman to continue talking, but the chief just narrowed her eyes. "Thank you for the offer, Yelena, but I'm _not hungry_. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to Ahtohallan." And without another word, she turned and started off again.

"That _wasn't_ a request, Spirit." She stopped, at the commanding tone. Bruni, noticing the shift in Elsa's countenance, quickly scampered into her hair. With a sigh, the younger woman turned back, meeting the chief's eye. In several quick strides, she was back standing before Yelena, her magic licking at her fingers and trembling beneath her skin. This whole day- no, this whole _week_ \- had gone from good to bad to worse, and it was starting to piss her off.

"Are you _commanding_ me, Yelena?" She breathed, never breaking eye contact. The chief didn't say anything. Elsa should have taken that as a sign to stop, but she was just so annoyed, so mentally drained, so... _tired_ that she couldn't be bothered to keep her mouth shut. She didn't want to stay, or eat, or do anything of the sort at the moment, and certainly not with Hans near. All she wanted was to go home to Ahtohallan and work on figuring out how to open that box. "Forgive me if I sound surprised, but if I remember _correctly_ , you don't command the spirits, _I_ do."

"I'm not commanding the spirits, I am commanding _you_." Yelena replied. "And right now, you _need_ it, because you have not eaten for days. How are you going to be able to do your job if you do not eat?"

Elsa's mouth dropped. Her temper flared- or cooled, rather, something she had learned back in Arendelle, when she was too tired to deal with things and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. _"I'm the Fifth Spirit, for God's sake! I will be fine!"_

She stamped her foot, and her familiar snowflake shot out from beneath her foot, frozen fractals covering every available surface. The others in the tribe who were out in the camp started to slip, even Yelena; only Elsa stayed standing upright. Bruni poked his head out of Elsa's hair before ducking back down, frightened of Elsa's raised voice.

Yelena, having had enough of what she deemed Elsa's temper tantrum made no room for argument. "You will _not_ be returning to Ahtohallan until _after_ you have eaten and gotten some rest, Elsa, _am I clear_?"

With a huff, Elsa stalked off, stepping into her hut out of habit, forgetting that Hans was recuperating inside. She wrapped the shawl tied loosely around her neck around her shoulders and began to pace, muttering to herself in annoyance, ice starting to coat her hands. Hans glanced from the ice beneath the hut to her and back. _So she still has her powers. Why does that not surprise me?_

_"How dare she!_ How _dare_ she treat me like a... _a child! I'm a grown woman, I don't need to be told what to do! And certainly not by the Chief of the Northuldra, when I'm the most powerful spirit they've ever seen! And yet she talks to me like I'm some... some pampered little princess-"_

"Um... Elsa?"

_"What?"_

Her snap was punctuated by a blast of ice smashing into the back wall of the hut as she turned, to find Hans watching her. Instantly, her annoyance was forgotten as her mouth dropped and her eyes widened. Hans was in her hut. What the _hell_ was _he_ doing in _her_ hut? Blue eyes darted quickly to the bandages wrapped around his ribs, the splint around his leg, and suddenly, it all came back.

_The gypsy camp, his injuries, your flight back to Ahtohallan because Hans is recuperating in_ your _hut._

Without a word, she hurried to the entrance, but never made it. "Elsa, wait-" She turned back, as Hans pushed himself up with a wince and a grunt of pain and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. Silence filled the space as they stared at each other and after a moment, he let go of her, the pain in his ribs getting to him. He winced, gritting his teeth, and Elsa moved to leave, but something stopped her. She turned back, before slowly kneeling beside him. Her blue gaze studied him, going to the bandages.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhm... _fine_..."

"You're not fine." She whispered, watching his chest rise and fall before flicking her gaze back to the bandages. After a moment, she reached over, grabbing his wrist when he tried to stop her, and gently brushed her fingers over the bandages. She pulled back, gasping softly at the realization that he was warm. _Fever._

Not bothering to go search for the healer, she got up and grabbed a bowl that sat in the corner- one she often filled with snow for Bruni to play in at night- and quickly filled it with water thanks to a flick of her wrist. She then set it beside them, and looked around for something to wet. Casting her mother's shawl aside so it didn't get in the way, she rummaged through her things, before giving up and turning to the dress she wore. Thinking quickly, she conjured an icicle and quickly tore through the skirt of her dress, removing a good chunk of material and dunking it into the water in the bowl. Setting it aside, she turned to Hans. "Come on, sit up."

"... what?"

"You need to sit up. I need to remove that bandage and reapply the poultice and redress it again! Now _Sit. Up_!"

With some struggle, she was able to help him, and once she had the bandage off, she realized what the problem was. Though the rib was healing, the skin where the poultice was applied to draw out the infection _from_ the rib was red and angry and warm to the touch. Wasting no time, Elsa wrung out the cloth and began washing away the poultice from his skin. He hissed, and she glanced up at him. "Sorry." She continued to clean it, finally reaching over and laying her other hand against his side; her cool touch seemed to help, and he relaxed slightly. Once it was fully cleaned, she could see the full extent of the problem.

Bright red, nearly hot, and slightly inflamed, Elsa could now see that the treatments he'd been going through for the last two or three days hadn't been helping, just hindering. She glanced at his face, but his eyes were closed against the pain. _The poultice wasn't helping, it was making it worse. He's already badly damaged from the attack, whatever infection had set in after his rib was broken was only exacerbated by the poultice. I need to double check with the healer about what was in the poultice._

Once the area was completely clean, she searched for something to apply to the infection, but was afraid whatever she found would only make it worse. After a moment, she glanced at her hands. It was worth a shot, and better than anything she could possibly find. She glanced at him, before reaching over and laying a hand against the infected area. He whimpered softly, the coolness of her touch was soothing- and then he cried out and jerked back, but she reached out, grabbing his hand when he tried to stop her. " _What are you doing? Elsa?_ "

"Coating it in snow."

_"Ah... why?"_

"Because you need _something_ to soothe the infection, and I'm afraid anything else that's from the earth will just make it worse! _Now hold still!_ " He fought against her, but her grip was tighter. The temperature inside the hut dropped several degrees, and when she finally pulled her hand away, she was satisfied to see the entire infected area covered in snow; in actuality, she'd covered the infected area in frostbite before coating it with snow. Then, she looked around for something to bind it with. The wet material of her skirt wouldn't do; it could only making him sicker. A moment passed, before she turned back to her dress, and quickly conjured another icicle. Hans watched through the pain in his eyes as Elsa grabbed the longer half of her skirt and slashed off a jagged strip, clear around. Once done, she helped him sit up, and began wrapping it around around his ribs, tightening it gently as she went, making sure it was completely covered before tucking the end. "There. I'll go let the healer and Yelena know what happened."

Hans watched as she stood, noticing how the once long, form hugging dress with the flowing skirt she'd worn now had major pieces missing from it. The entire left side of her skirt was missing up to two inches above her knee, the right side fell two inches below her knee, and the back hung down in a jagged point when she turned. Something in the back of his mind told him that she looked better this way than before; more human and less... spirit-like. When he looked up next, she was gone, though not far, as he could hear muffled voices on the other side of the flap.

_"... I changed the bandage, and removed the poultice."_

_"Forgive me, Spirit, but why would you do that? That poultice was help-"_

_"That poultice was hurting him, Vanja! When I checked it, his skin was hot to the touch! Red and inflamed when I removed the bandages! Whatever is in that poultice you have been using for the last few days... he is sensitive too, and it was only making it worse!"_

_"So how do you suggest we heal him, Spirit?"_

_"I put a layer of frost and then two layers of snow over it, and then covered it with ice to keep both in place. Then I wrapped it and his ribs-"_

_"And what exactly did you wrap it with?"_ Yelena asked; silence fell, and Hans had a suspicion they were all staring at what had once been her skirt. _"I see."_ Elsa blushed, glancing down to see her light grey leggings.

_"It was the only thing I could think of to use."_ Elsa's reply was the last thing he heard before he drifted off.


End file.
